


Manipulation

by loveiscosmicsin



Category: FF15, FFXV - Fandom, Final Fantasy 15, Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Drabble Request, Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 05:11:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6941221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveiscosmicsin/pseuds/loveiscosmicsin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hope is a lie."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Manipulation

Prompto agonized every living second he was trapped in the room. Granted that the room had been accommodated with a chair, he felt it would have been a massive improvement if there weren’t shackles binding him to the reinforced table in front of him. He tired of watching the chains rattle and spill over the desk’s edge. He wondered what world would keep their attention longer than on him. He was their guest with a special reservation.

His leg had been jerking non-stop for the past half-hour. It was a horrible habit, one that would be perceived as done out of impatience, but the truth was he didn’t realize he had been doing that. It had been a random tic of his. Every blonde hair on his body stood up straight at the slightest sound even if it was caused by him. He hoped to stop his leg by pressing his hands down and piling the weight of the shackles on it. It did little to stop and he grounded the toe of his boot into the sterile floor. It brought some small satisfaction to see that he scuffed it.

The only entrance out of the room scored the floor like nails against a chalkboard and a woman emerged from it. The woman in white. Lady Lunafreya Nox Fleuret. The Oracle. Luna. Vile rose in his belly at the sight of her. Even though he knew Luna wasn’t the same woman he had known, it didn’t bring him any comfort that they shared the same face.

“Oh great, look who’s here…” Prompto slumped in his seat, scrutinizing the harsh lights glaring down on him. He could not determine how much time had passed because of those damn lights. He didn’t bother looking at the woman, but he knew that she had remained standing instead of taking the chair across from him. “Are you expecting an invitation? Or for me to get on my knees for you? You always did have things your way. You barged in here without your usual greeting, too. Or am I expecting the ‘greeting’ after this?”

“You look rather excitable. All things considered.”

“What can I say? It’s just my way of showing appreciation for the company.” The gunslinger’s smirk did not reach the corners of his eyes. “Like old times.”

Luna’s hands folded into themselves. “I don’t intend on staying long.”

He didn’t like this woman. They had played together as children. She was the group’s token little princess, cut from fine cloth while he was from rags. She was perfect. She was still perfect, if not more, since the last time that he saw her. The whole Oracle gig must have treated her far more kindly than she deserved. Now he wished he never had the misfortune of meeting her. He recalled all the times he made Noctis blush from teasing him on their mutual childhood friend and the memory of it felt like ash on his tongue. He could see right through the seemingly saintly and ethereal facade of hers. Just as she could see through his liar’s mask.

“Why have you disobeyed me? Have you forgotten your promise?”

“You mean the one that you forced on me? Right after you broke my kneecaps and branded me with that trident of yours? That didn’t feel like a promise.” He sarcastically ended as his eyes unconsciously fell to the black bandana painstakingly wrapped around his bicep. An old wound but occasionally, a phantom sensation would flare up as though it were recently maimed.

“It was a mercy that you still have no appreciation for. I take you forgotten about Stella.”

“How could I forget? You talk about her all the time.” Prompto muttered as he rolled his eyes.

If this was an interrogation, Prompto felt that she was terrible at it. An interrogation would probably start with torture first, torture in between, and torture at the end when there was nothing more to be said. This woman did not use torture, at least not after the first couple visits. She took no pleasure in pain nor allowed her calculated and stoic mask break in interacting with her sister’s murderer. He could not wrap around if this Luna had always been that way or somewhere along the road, something in her became warped and twisted. Why would a manipulative witch like her bother with someone like him? This whole waving over a dead woman’s name over him was getting old. She was a sadist who believed that exerting her pious presence would make men weak in the knees and beg for forgiveness. The former princess never did understand the concept that not everyone would fall over heels for her charms.

Maybe it just twisted her panties in a bunch that she could never manipulate him the way she wanted.

“My silence allowed you to continue your life without our companions learning of your choices. You embraced blind obedience before, but your recent delusions defiled my wish on why I let you live. You expressed hope in the life you were truly undeserving of.”

She walked behind the man. Prompto dared not to turn his head. He felt her amethyst eyes bore through his skull as though she had pressed the blistering barrel of a gun to his head. Luna then her arms drape past his neck and confined him into an embrace. The sickeningly sweet scent of sylleblossoms assaulted his nostrils, mystifying him. Though her hands appeared dainty and flawless compared to the gunslinger’s calloused and fingernail-stubbed ones, the woman had blood on those hands. She committed a great number of sins, many that went unanswered for. She accumulated a higher body count than Prompto could never match.

“Hope is something we could never attain, you and I. We can never know peace because…” She nuzzled her cheek on the side of Prompto’s head, hugging her bare elbows around him. When she leaned in to his ear, he shuddered at her chilling, despondent words, “Hope is a lie.”

Prompto shuddered and squirmed but Luna ensnared him with surprising strength. She murmured against his flesh and his blond locks, trailing her poison still. “And for as long as I draw breath, I’ll see that you’ll never forget it, murderer. Cast aside your pathetic attempts at freedom at once or my silence will be broken. And you will be broken.”


End file.
